


One Fine Day

by brittyelaine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x23 coda, Canon Compliant, Castiel in the Bunker, Drabble, Family Feels, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, One-Shot, Post-Season 11, Sam Ships It, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7551502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittyelaine/pseuds/brittyelaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in, well, ever, Dean Winchester was rewarded for his efforts.  For his bravery, his compassion, his never-ending love, and for understanding what truly mattered, Dean received due compensation for his tragedies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Fine Day

**Author's Note:**

> From the Tumblr prompt: "They get Sam back and everyone has spent the day in the bunker getting caught up and enjoying company. Dean is exhausted but doesn’t want to miss out. He ends up falling asleep in the leather chair near the table. Cas offers to get the remaining 2 another beer, but he stops by Dean first, removing the half finished beer from his hand and covering him with his coat. As he walks to the kitchen, Mary gives Sam a look (of your choice)."
> 
> Come hang out with me on [Tumblr](http://brittywritesstuff.tumblr.com)!

Dreams don’t come true for Winchesters. For generations, it seemed to have been coded into their DNA that they would simply live a life of misery before it ended far too soon. It’s one of the well-known general rules and accepted canons of the universe: (1) you don’t take a joint from a guy named Don; (2) no dogs in the car; (3) Bert and Ernie are gay; and (4) Winchesters are never to be rewarded for any of their countless sacrifices. These rules remained steadfast and true until Dean Winchester, yet again, stepped between an apocalypse and humanity; throwing himself in front of the proverbial bullet for what seemed like the millionth time in his nearly four-decade existence. But for the first time in, well, _ever_ , Dean Winchester was rewarded for his efforts. For his bravery, his compassion, his never-ending love, and for understanding what truly mattered, Dean received due compensation for his tragedies. 

Sam and Dean Winchester’s lives were so strange that Sam was once able to explain that, while his mother had died when he was a baby, it was quite alright - he’d had the opportunity to get to know her later in life. Neither of the brothers could have expected for such an occasion to come around again, and allow them both to become acquainted with a mother who was, by mortal standards, now years younger than either of them. 

It was a harsh and jolting transition for Mary Winchester. It took Dean a while to come around to the fact that this was a gift, not a punishment. To have his mother ripped from the afterlife and thrown into reality thirty-three years after she died sounded cruel. She was shocked to find her husband had raised her little boys into the life of hunting, after she had so desperately fought to get out of it. She was shocked to hear how often their lives were in peril - and how often they had ended. 

As Dean looked around the table at this rag-tag group: two hunters, a woman returned from the grave, and an angel, he couldn’t help smiling to himself. Not only had they survived the end of the world, Dean had his mom back. His _mom_. The one person whose death had catapulted him into this hellish nightmare of a life was alive and well and smiling proudly at his little brother while he told a story.

Dean glanced at Cas with a smile, settling himself comfortably into the leather chair in the corner. The hard wooden seats offered at the table were unforgiving, and the ache in his back was relentless. The squeaky, cushioned armchair seemed to be a much better option at the moment. Aside from driving, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat around like this. His muscles were screaming at him, but it was worth it. The four of them had spent the better part of the day sitting, conversing, eating, and drinking. It was like a hyper-realistic dream to Dean, and he was loving every single second of it. He had spent so many years missing the idea of his mom that he never thought about what it would be like to spend time with her. What it would be like to enjoy her company; to joke and laugh with her. In a word, it was perfect. 

The story Sam was telling animatedly, Dean had heard many times before. Hell, he’d lived it: the prank war he and Sam had engaged in not long after Dean had picked him up from Stanford. Despite every ounce of him fighting the exhaustion of the last few days, Dean found his consciousness waning; his eyes sliding shut.

“I believe we all deserve one more round,” Cas suggested from the table. “It’s been a difficult few days for everyone.” When Sam and Mary nodded in agreement, he stood, moving to head for the kitchen. He stopped, though, when he saw Dean: a beer bottle tucked into the crook of his arm, his head lulled to one side, his cheek resting against the back of the worn leather seat. Sighing, Cas bent to gently pull the bottle from Dean’s hand and set it aside. He seemed to hesitate a moment before shrugging out of his trench coat and draping it over Dean. His hand lingered on Dean’s shoulder - the one marked by his grace all those years ago. “Sleep well, Dean,” he whispered.

When Cas had disappeared into the corridor to fetch more beer, Mary looked at Sam with a smirk. In that moment, Sam could see so much of Dean in her smile: the humor, the mischief. He caught her eyes and huffed out a soft laugh with a look and a nod that seemed to perfectly convey the answer to her unspoken question: _Yeah, Dean has his very own guardian angel… and yeah, they’re both idiots._


End file.
